


The Infinite Possibilities of the Universe

by Frangipanidownunder



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 18:23:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16979535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frangipanidownunder/pseuds/Frangipanidownunder
Summary: A fluffy pre-Millennium gift exchange.





	The Infinite Possibilities of the Universe

She shakes the package lightly. Dips her head to sniff it. Squishes it to see if it gives. It does, slightly. But there’s something more solid underneath the wrapping too. She looks up at Mulder. He’s smiling, that wide grin he often has for when life really shines for him. She’s never considered he’d get this excited for Christmas, given his belief system, and given the last time they exchanged gifts was after their brush with the truth in a haunted house. But now, standing in her living room, backlit by the soft glow of her Christmas tree lights, his eyes are dancing and he’s on the brink of laughing.

“What is it?” she asks, knowing he’s never going to tell her. He’s a ‘guess what!’ guy. He’s a ‘you’re never going to believe this’ guy. He’s an ‘I’m going to watch every second of you unwrapping this gift’ guy. He has been watching her more recently. She’s caught him staring at her while she’s filing, writing reports, getting coffee, hanging her coat. He’s always been attentive, but since his return to work, he’s been even more interested in her private life, he’s been more tactile. More present.

Her gift to him is clutched to his chest so tightly it’s like he hasn’t received a gift for aeons. And then it hits her. He probably hasn’t. Not since the haunted house. Who would give him a gift? There’s no family left. The Gunmen don’t exactly celebrate traditional holidays. And who else would buy Mulder a gift, wrap it especially carefully, place it under the tree and smile every time they passed it?

“Sit,” she says, nodding to her couch. He does and he still doesn’t let the present go.

“I’ll go first, then?” She places her gift on her lap and pulls the ribbon. “The wrapping is beautiful. Where did you get it done?”

The paper is frosted gold, plain, but quality wrapping. It’s the colour of sand under shallow sunlit water and there’s a spicy scent too, like it’s been sprinkled with pot pourri. The ribbon is deep crimson velvet and tied in a perfect bow.

“I did it myself,” he says, and she can see he’s a little wounded at her question.

She pulls down the Vs at each side and unfolds the top. His eyes are boring into her cheek and she raises a finger to the spot, feeling the flush of heat bloom. She hears his lips pop open and chances a look at him. His expression makes him seem younger, boyish. She looks quickly back to the gift, concentrating on opening it, trying to calm the slight tremble in her hands.

There’s a layer of bubble wrap to remove and once discarded she holds the white box up to the light. Mulder moves closer and her heart beats a little faster. He’s still got her gift against his heart.

The box is light, an oval cut out window at the front to view the tealight candle holder inside. It is a velvety shade of midnight blue, patterned with cut out stars and planets. She gasps.

“Do you have a candle?” His smile has softened, his voice low and raspy. She looks at his eyes. They seem wet. “I saw it and thought of you. The infinite possibilities of the universe.”

She finds two in the kitchen, and a box of matches. Swallows her own tears. She sits the holder on the coffee table and lights the candle inside. The night sky glows with golden stars and their shadows flicker on the wall and ceiling.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispers and doesn’t quite know how to break the beauty of the moment. She turns to look at him. His mouth is half open and she wonders if his unspoken words match hers.

“Why don’t you open your present, Mulder?”

It’s the only safe thing she can say.

He bites his bottom lip when he pulls out the box. She knows what’s inside but anticipation thrums through her. As he pulls out the tealight candle holder, a velvety shade of midnight blue, patterned with cut out stars and planets, he gasps. She smiles as tears fall. He lights the candle.

A matching pair sitting side by side.

He puts an arm around her shoulders and pulls her closer as they watch the stars blink and dance.


End file.
